


Anger

by hatehateslove



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-01
Updated: 2017-03-01
Packaged: 2018-09-27 16:24:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10031732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hatehateslove/pseuds/hatehateslove
Summary: Andrew was no stranger to anger. He knew what rage and frustration and hate looked like...but not on Neil





	

Neil dug his feet harder into the pavement as a wash of red overtook his vision. He sped up his already breakneck speed. 

At this rate he was going to blow his legs out. But right now, it didn’t matter. 

He was angry. 

* * *

Neil clenched his jaw hard enough for his temples to pull and his jaw to creak with the force. 

He was getting a headache from it, but that only served to make him angrier. 

He tried to swallow around the lump in his throat, but that only made the lump swell until he couldn’t breathe. 

So he didn’t. 

* * *

_Yes,_  it was said gruffly, slightly frustrated. 

Andrew searched Neil’s eyes for a moment, then pushed Neil up against the wall of their bedroom door.

Their kisses were bruising and Andrew could taste blood. 

Neil welcomed the pain as Andrew moved down his throat and left angry red marks that would very quickly become bruises from the force of his bites. 

Neil groaned, his own hands in Andrew’s hair, pulling and tugging, but still conscious of the fact that Andrew didn’t like too much force. That was his thing. And they both respected that. 

Neil bit his lip and Andrew clenched his lips, then teeth, around his right nipple. 

Neil starting panting, his breath sounding harsh to his own ears and Andrew sank to his knees, dragging his nails down Neil’s stomach and sides, leaving angry red marks on his way.

* * *

Neil’s fists clenched.

He threw a punch. 

And another. 

And another. 

And another. 

Each punch made his jaw unclench by a fraction. 

The ‘smack!’ of his knuckles hitting the punching bag were music to his ears. 

He would be lying if he said he wasn’t imagining the bag as something or someone else. He’d also be lying if he said that the intensity and force of his punches weren’t changing depending on what his brain was supplying his imagination with. 

He paused to catch his breath.

His arms felt heavy, as he tried to lift one to wipe at the sweat trickling down his temples. 

His fingers twitched as he uncurled them from the tight fists he had them in. 

He took a couple gulps of air, stepping back from the bag. 

He sighed. 

Then stepped forward again. 

Neil’s fists clenched. 

He threw a punch. 

And another. 

And another. 

* * *

Neil’s lips trembled, his eyes burned and his nose stung. 

_Damnit,_ he muttered to himself through clenched teeth. 

His hands tightened around the edge of the bathroom sink. He looked up at his reflection, his eyes red and his face splotchy. 

He brought the heel of his palms to his eyes and pushed, wiping away the water leaking from his eyes. 

He brought his hands down and still, his eyes were just as red as before. 

A wave of rage hit him. 

His hands fisted. 

His jaw clenched. 

His lips trembled, his eyes burned, and his nose stung.  

Damnit. 

* * *

_Harder._  Neil grunted, his face in Andrew’s pillow. 

Andrew obliged. 

He bit his wrist to keep from being too loud. But the larger part of him wanted to yell and scream until he lost his voice. 

Andrew had his hands on Neil’s hips, he moved one to Neil’s hair and pulled. 

Neil growled - or moaned, he wasn’t entirely sure - Andrew pulled his hair harder. Enough to yank Neil’s head back with the force.

_Yes._

* * *

Neil was in bed.

He was under the blankets.

It was silent. 

Just the sound of Neil’s steady breathing. 

Andrew made his way across the room to get to their bathroom. 

When he got back, Neil hadn’t moved. 

Neil usually snored if he was asleep. And he was breathing just a smidge quicker than if he’d been asleep. 

Andrew paused, _Neil_

Nothing. 

His brow furrowed. He moved closer to the Neil shaped mass in their bed. 

He heard something that wasn’t Neil’s breathing. 

Andrew raised a brow and took his phone out, _hello_  he typed out and sent. 

Neil’s phone pinged, and his music - the sound Andrew had heard - lessened in volume to signal the incoming text. 

Neil didn’t move. 

But his volume went up.

After a moment of consideration, Andrew sighed and left. 

* * *

Neil was angry. 

And not in a clenched jaw, seeing red kind of angry.

Or the - shaking with rage kind of angry 

But he calm kind of angry. 

Rather, the angry that manifested itself as calm. 

The anger that was clawing its way through his core but without any sign of distress on his part. The anger that could only be read in the slightest reddening of the tips of his ears. Or the minute twitch of his fingers. 

It was the most lethal, and unexplainable angry that Andrew had ever witnessed. 

At least, on Neil. 

Andrew was no stranger to anger. He knew what rage and frustration and hate looked like, He knew what they could result in. He had the scars. The physical and mental. 

But watching Neil stand there not reacting in any way, for what looked like no reason, had Andrew questioning whether he’d ever truly seen rage in its most powerful form. 


End file.
